Out Of Nowhere
by HEELAly
Summary: What happens when you're tattooing your celebrity crush? When he takes his shirt off to display those washboard abs, I mean... show you the tattoo that needs a touch up here and there. Your hands can not NOT touch him, it's part of your job. Gemma's a happily married tattoo artist whose life will never be the same after Randy Orton shows up, literally out of nowhere.
1. Chapter 1

**I DO NOT OWN WWE Characters or anything affiliated with the WWE.**

**Please do not sue Steph, Vince and Trips.**

* * *

"Alright Mr. Orton, you can have a seat while I go to the back and get your artist." Chloe was a small, young, cheerful dark skinned beauty who needed the assistance of heels to be taken serious amongst her tall co-workers and clientele that came into the tattoo shop. Never really having the chance to become star struck, living in a small town her whole life, she kept herself professional, she had to in this business or the customer would never return. It wasn't until she was in the back, in her best friends room, that she let herself, and those fangirl emotions that are hard to control, come out.  
"Oh. My. God." Chloe took deep breathes with every word and had to put her hands on the back of Gemma's chair to keep herself from collapsing on the floor from a developing panic attack.  
Gemma was hunched forward, pencil in hand concentrating on tracing an anchor, trying to make it different from all the other anchor tattoos she had done recently. Lucky for her she was extremely creative and could keep up, if not out shine, in this male dominated shop and industry.  
"_Really_? Is it _that_ good?" Gemma asked unsure while sitting back and trying to see it from Chloe's perspective. Sure it was a clean drawing, but nothing to take your breath away.  
"No no no... I mean, yeah... that looks nice.." Chloe didn't even notice what the hell Gemma was drawing. She was trying to keep her cool, trying not to get hot in the cheeks knowing she would have to face him again in a few moments. "You have a walk-in. A _very hot_ walk-in. He needs some white in his sleeves and back touched up. And _hopefully_ my number." Gemma put her pencil down, shut her drawing lamp off and turned in her chair facing Chloe who was now standing in front of a full length mirror fanning her face with both hands, whispering confident nothings to herself.  
"Are you okay?..." Gemma asked with a raised brow before standing up and raising her tattoo'd arms up over her head stretching. Watching her gorgeous friend primp herself, as if she needed to, then looking down to her own attire which consisted of black skinny jeans, a tight white tank top and a pair of old chucks. It was a disappointing comparison really.  
"Just wait until you see this guy, Gem. You'll totally get it." Chloe reassured her while grabbing her own chest and pushing them up, making sure her small handful of cleavage in her tight black body hugging dress would not be missed by this guy.  
Gemma smiled and rolled her eyes. "He must be that gift from God I keep hearing about but have _yet _to see." She teased. It was pretty amusing seeing Chloe get so flustered by a client, it wasn't the first time and probably wouldn't be the last.  
"Girl. Just wait..." Chloe lifted her index finger to add emphasis, "This man is a gift _and_ a blessing. Hallelujah!" She snapped her fingers, patted down her straight light chocolate hair at the roots and once she was content with what she saw in the mirror turned on one heel and sashayed down the hall.  
A smile tugged at Gemma's lips before she let out a laugh. _To be young, wild and free again _she thought to herself while pushing her massage table in the middle of the room spraying it with disinfectant then wiping it down getting everything ready for her client who, apparently, was a gift from God?  
It wasn't that Gemma was actually old, she was only 28. It was just that being married, working long nine hour days and never going out, with the exception to Target for groceries classified her as 'not fun anymore' by her girlfriends. And Chloe. And co-workers. And sometimes even her husband. Which for Gemma was perfectly understandable. She lost her fun edge once he put a ring on it. Her nights of drinking heavily and dancing in heels till the sun came up in skimpy dresses were now replaced with getting as much sleep as she could and an unnatural addiction to Pinterest.  
Her thoughts were interrupted once the clicking of heels were heard coming up the hall. Gemma prepped herself and grabbed her long black locks which cascaded past her shoulders and gathered them to form a messy bun on top of her head and grabbed her black framed glasses. Obviously it was all about comfort for her. Taking one more quick glance over in the mirror and tucking stray locks of hair behind her ears she turned her direction to the sudden stop of clicks.  
_Holy shit_... was her only thought and probably the only words she could say... If she could talk.


	2. Chapter 2

**I do NOT own the Randy Orton character or anything else affiliated with the WWE.**

**Please don't sue Steph, Randy or Trips.**

**Just a fun fan fiction story that I came up with to write.**

* * *

"Okay Randy, this is Gemma. She is one of the best, if not _the_ best artist we have here." Chloe bragged. "I'll see you two soon!" She smiled and slid out of the room, clicking back down the hall in her huge pumps, her hips swaying from side to side. Chloe looked over her shoulder in hopes Randy would be watching the show her body was putting on for him. He wasn't.

His focus was on this cute, nerdy looking chick covered with tattoos that caught him off guard. She wasn't exactly what he was expecting to walk into.

_Randy fucking Orton is in my room_. _I am alone, in a small space with The Viper_, Gemma thought to herself while showing a tough exterior. You would have never guessed that on the inside she was jumping up and down, squealing like a kid at a concert while holding up her home made sign in all her glory.

"Hello, I'm Gemma. Nice to meet you... _huge _fan." And by huge she meant almost obsessed. Shirts, action figures, a teddy bear, she even tried to talk her husband into a life size stand up once. Unfortunely she lost a bet she had with him during a football game and those God Damned Bears cost her that glorious life size stand up.

She took a few steps forward and with her black manicured hand reached for Randy's, hoping this wasn't one of those cruel dreams where she would wake up and try to go back to sleep to hopefully start where it ended then couldn't.

"Hi, nice to meet you as well.." The moment he grabbed her cold hand with his own warm, baseball glove sized hand was the moment she realised it wasn't a dream. Randy paused for a second, reading her tattoo'd knuckles that spelled out 'baby' and glanced down at her other hand putting it all together. "...Baby doll." He smiled down toward her, "That's cute. I like that."

Gemma felt her face get hot. Was he hitting on her or just being friendly? Was she thinking too much of herself to even _think_ a world wide known super star like Randy Orton could possibly be hitting on her? This wasn't the typical local loser with bad breath and home made in the kitchen tattoos that bragged about being in some shitty cover band trying to impress her. Randy could have any woman he wanted.

"I actually never had a female artist before...you know what you're doing?" He asked with squinted eyes directly on hers releasing her hand and putting his on his hips. His body was his money maker. One tiny mistake and the smarks, hardcore WWE fans, would never let him or his character live it down. She looked professional, seemed seasoned in the business judging by her aged tattoos and by the looks of all the awards hanging behind her on the wall assured him that she was more than worthly enough.

_That look!_ She could have sworn her ovaries exploded just then. Wait! What is she thinking!? She is a very happily married woman who was not wearing her wedding rings because it fucks her gloves up while she is working. Not like that mattered, he wasn't paying that close of attention to her, _was he?_

There is a first time for everything Mr. Orton...and as long as you sit still and don't bitch everything should go accordingly." She adjusted her glasses closer to her face and cleared her throat, trying to shake this, whatever it is, off and going back to business. Trying to remember what she tells Chloe when she gets wrapped up in her gossip magazines which was that he is a normal person just like them. That was easier said then actually done.

"Now where would you like me to touch up?" She asked with her arms folded infront of her chest.

Randy raised his brows at her stern directions. "Baby doll..." He chuckled to himself before continuing, "I take blows to the head with steel chairs for a living. I'm going to be the best client you ever had." He took the ends of his shirt and pulled it up and over his head molding his shirt into a ball and holding it in one hand. She could have sworn she saw him flex his pecs. His chiseled six pack was quite the distraction as he was pointing to his biceps and forearms, telling where he wanted his original tribal touched up. To make it even worse on Gemma he proceeded to turned around, showing her his tribal back piece that needed some attention.

She knew exactly where everything was on his body. Her Monday and Friday nights were spent watching him in his tight trunks. She got a chance to see things the camera couldn't pick up though... like cute little freckles here and there and battle marks that came from his matches. She wanted so badly to reach out and touch them, thank him for putting his body through such conditions for his fans.

Her thoughts shattered when he turned arounding asking, "Got all that?" Gemma quickly caught his eyes before he could see her checking out his ass.

"Yes sir." She nodded once with a smile. His arrogance would disgust most, but to Gemma it was one of the reasons she was a fan from day one. And a huge turn on.


End file.
